


Pool Party!

by AppalachianApologies



Series: Appalachian's 2020 Whumptober [13]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Drowning, Found Family, Hurt Spencer, Hurt Spencer Reid, Set in Season 1, Spencer Reid Whump, Spencer Whump, Whump, Whumptober 2020, because i'm weak for that shit and put it in all my fics oof, but fear not because there's still plenty of, pulmonary edema, unsurprisingly pulmonary edema is not a tag, which is a first for me haha, who would've guessed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26990254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppalachianApologies/pseuds/AppalachianApologies
Summary: Spencer knows how to swim, but that only helps so much when his head is being held underneath the surface of a pool.Day 13: Delayed Drowning | Oxygen Mask
Series: Appalachian's 2020 Whumptober [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948174
Comments: 22
Kudos: 230
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Pool Party!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! I hope your day is going well so far! I had a lot of fun writing this because I got to do a bunch of research, which is always super fun for me haha. I also decided to write something in season one, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I liked writing it :D
> 
> Enjoy!! :D

The victims were little girls, and it hit the entire team hard.

So far seven young girls were all killed in their own homes in sunny LA, California. All of the victim’s families were wealthy and had large swimming pools in their backyards. Parents would go out to run a quick errand, and when they’d come back their daughters would be dead in the pool.

It wasn’t any surprise that Spencer instantly jumped in the pool when they caught the unsub attempting to drown his eighth victim. Maisy Higgins, an eleven year old girl, was being held down in the deep end of her family’s pool. Without thinking twice, Spencer tears off his holster and jumps in the pool, determined to get Logan Hurst off of the victim. 

Trying to throw punches underwater doesn’t work as well as it sounds. The water is too thick, and by the time a fist has reached a head, barely anything happens. Luckily, that doesn’t deter Spencer from attempting to save Maisy.

She’s thrashing against Hurst and the flimsy pool cover, limbs getting tangled up as her lungs scream for oxygen. Spencer’s able to pull her apart from Hurst, giving her a push towards the surface, before a hand grabs his hair, pushing him down. 

Because of his extra height Hurst can easily keep Spencer’s head under the surface while still keeping himself breathing precious oxygen. Spencer swats his hands above his head, but Hurst doesn’t flinch. It’s only when his lungs threaten to convulse that Spencer begins to panic. 

Spencer can’t breach the surface, so he does the next best thing: he goes lower.

He forces himself to drop down close to the bottom of the pool, until Hurst no longer has his hands clutching Spencer’s hair. He then uses the pool floor to push off to the right, hopefully far enough away from Hurst.

He reaches the surface right as his mouth involuntarily opens for oxygen. He catches part of the pool cover while he’s gasping for air, which just makes him panic further. Spencer’s barely strong enough to hold the plastic cover over his head, desperately gasping for the air in his little bubble. 

A second later, the plastic is removed from above his head, and his arms fall back into the water, helping himself tread. Strong arms haul him to the edge of the pool, before another pair are able to pick him up until his knees reach the end of the pool.

“Reid! Stop, just take some deep breaths. You’re okay now, we got you,”

Turning on his side, Spencer hacks up drops of water until he’s red in the face.

“Reid, you need to breathe,”

With a nod of understanding, Spencer forces his lungs to expand, trying to ignore the urge to keep coughing.

Rubbing a hand on his back, Hotch soothes, “There you go. Just breathe. You’re okay now.”

Through gasps, Spencer questions, “Mai-Maisy?”

“She’s also okay. You got her out,” Hotch confirms. “And we got Hurst. Everyone’s okay.”

Relieved Spencer falls back on the concrete, before mutters, “Good.”

“Just take a few more deep breaths.”

Spencer couldn’t agree more with the sentiment. Breathing is one of those things that he didn’t realize was so good, until he lost the ability to do so. It seems a bit like a no brainer, but breathing feels incredible.

After handing off the suspect to LAPD, Gideon comes to crouch next to Hotch and Spencer. “You gonna be alright, kid?”

Spencer nods, and after a particularly breathy exhale, he confirms, “I’m good.”

Holding out a hand, Gideon smiles, “Alright kid. Let’s go home, yeah?”

Despite his hatred of germs and bacteria, Spencer’s grateful for the offered hand, and awkwardly heaves himself up from the concrete, coughing a few times on the way up. Once he’s up, Spencer rejects any shoulders to lean on, and walks by himself back to the SUV.

After the local detectives thank the BAU for their help, the team is already getting back on the jet. 

Settling down on a seat across from Spencer, JJ questions, “Spence, I heard about what happened, are you okay?”

Nodding, albeit lethargically, Spencer replies, “I’m good. I’m just glad we were able to save Maisy before it was too late.”

“Me too,” JJ agrees. “The couch is open,” She points out, “You should rest. It’s going to be a long time until we’re back to Quantico.”

“Yeah,” Spencer muses, picking himself and his messenger up. Standing up from the seat makes Spencer a bit lightheaded, but it clears after a beat, and he makes his way over to the couch. Hotch and Gideon glance at his movement, but otherwise don’t indicate that they notice. Spencer’s grateful for that fact.

Exhausted from the events of the past day, Spencer forms a pillow with his arms and closes his eyes. Even though he’s tired, his heart continues to beat fast and heavy, usually indicating an oncoming panic attack. Spencer frowns into his arms. Save for his jack rabbit heart, there’s nothing else that would clue him into panicking.

With an attempt to shake the thought out of his head, Spencer draws up his knees and tries to get some sleep, lulled by the team and their quiet voices.

Nearly two hours later, Spencer wakes himself up.

It takes a quick moment for him to even realize why he’s woken up, but his bubbly wheezing quickly clues him in. 

His heart feels like it’s falling out of the bottom of his chest, and each broken breath he takes seems to be rattling his entire core. When Spencer sits up in an attempt to ease the stress on his lungs, he coughs out a bit of remaining water. Without thinking, Spencer wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and his blood runs cold.

Rather than clear saliva, frothy, pink spit greets him instead.

Spencer looks around the jet, heart rate picking up to be a mile a minute. Almost the entire rest of the BAU are sleeping, JJ and Elle sitting across from Gideon and Morgan. On one of the side facing seats Hotch is mulling over paperwork, comparing notes from the case and eyewitness statements.

Although he doesn’t know what he wants to say, Spencer opens his mouth. Instead, all that comes out are coughs. He quickly covers it with the inside of his elbow, wincing at the strange feeling in his chest.

Pen still in hand, Hotch looks up and questions, “Everything alright, Reid?”

Spencer didn’t think he’d get this far. He doesn’t know what to say, so instead just looks up at Hotch with wide eyes. 

“Reid?” He tries again.

Swallowing, Spencer starts, “I, uh, I,” Before he cuts himself off with more coughing.

He can pinpoint the exact moment Hotch sees the blood. Hotch’s eyes widen and the pen in his left hand falls down to the files underneath, leaving a black line where summarized witness statements should go.

Hotch is quickly moving out of his seat, and lands in front of Spencer in barely a fraction of a second. “Reid, you have to tell me what hurts right now, okay? Is it your chest?”

Spencer nods, adding in, “It feels weird. I feel weird.”

“Okay, what else are you feeling? What feels weird?”

Frowning, Spencer answers, “My, uh, my heart. It’s beating strangely- palpitations,”

All of the color drains from Hotch’s face. “Shit, shit, okay. What else? Anything else?” When Spencer just shrugs, Hotch presses, “Spencer, tell me what else is wrong,”

“‘Feel a little dizzy, I guess?”

Quickly nodding, Hotch instructs, “Okay, lay back down. You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

Spencer nods, leaning back on the couch armrest as Hotch steps a few feet away, waking Gideon.

Gideon wakes with a frown, looking confusing and thoroughly annoyed. Quickly, Hotch supplies, “It’s Reid. We need to get him to a hospital.”

The older man wakes instantly at that. He quickly unbuckles his seat belt to race over to the youngest agent, eyes clouded with worry. 

“Kid, hey, how are you feeling?”

Eyebrows knit together, Spencer replies, “Strange. I’ve never actually experienced-” He gets cut off by another cough, wincing when more pink froth comes from his trachea.

Feeling his own anxiety rise, Gideon tries to soothe, “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to get you to a hospital, and you’re going to be fine.”

As if on cue, Hotch comes back from the cockpit and announces to Gideon, “We’re going to touch down in Wichita, we’ll have an ambulance waiting on the airstrip.”

Looking up to the older men for guidance, Spencer asks, “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Reid, you’re coughing up blood,” Hotch points out.

Wheezing, Spencer agrees, “Yeah.”

Frowning at Gideon’s pale demeanor, Hotch offers, “I’ll go wake everyone else up. Just stay with Reid. He’s going to be fine.” Hotch knows how close Gideon is to a breakdown, and he can only hope that whatever’s going on with Spencer won’t trigger it.

Not a minute later finds the entire BAU team crowding around the couch, all of them looking on like he’s a science experiment. Spencer now has more appreciation for lab rats.

Sensing his distress, Gideon barks out, “Everyone get away from the couch. Reid’s going to be fine, and you’re not helping.”

Frowning at his tone, Spencer wheezes, “Gideon-”

“Don’t try to talk, kid.” He interrupts. “Just keep breathing.”

Spencer nods, wiping sweat off of his forehead. His breathing has already gone from bad to worse, and each of his wheezes come with a rattly whistle, which just echos around the jet, creating more tension. 

“Gideon,” Spencer starts, chest tight.

“Don’t try and talk, Spencer,”

Ignoring the older man for what’s probably the first time in his life, Spencer insists, “Gideon, my chest,”

Frowning with alarm, Hotch chimes in, “What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

Looking down, Spencer replies, “Heart. It’s not,”

“Reid?”

Gasping out a few more drops of blood, Spencer adds, “Something’s wrong,”

This time Elle is the one to question, “Reid?”

Sucking in a breath, Spencer fearfully looks towards Gideon, hoping that his mentor can fix the problem. 

Instead, Hotch is the one to soothe him. “You’re going to be fine, Reid. We’re going to land in a few minutes, and we’re going to get you to a hospital right away, got it?”

Coughing, Spencer nods. Gently putting a hand on his shoulder, Hotch pushes Spencer back on the couch so he’s half leaning against the armrest, and half leaning against Gideon. When the pilot calls for everyone to put their seat belts back on, Gideon doesn’t move from his perch, half on the floor, half on the couch. He glares at anyone who would dare to tell him to get back to a seat.

The dramatic and quick change of altitude causes Spencer to cough more, and soon enough he’s devolved into a horrific coughing fit, pink spit staining his arm.

“You need to breathe,” Gideon tries, keeping a hand on Spencer’s back.

Unable to get out any words, Spencer just shakes his head, hoping that his mentor will understand that he’s trying to, but he just  _ can’t. _

Airplane protocol be damned, Hotch unbuckles himself and treads the bumpy path to the couch, before helping Gideon hold Spencer up. The young agent sags into the touch, letting them hold him up as he wheezes and gasps for at least a bit of oxygen.

When they finally touch down, Spencer feels the same as he did when Hurst was holding his head under the water.

Barely waiting for the jet to taxi off the runway, Morgan jumps out of his seat and tears open the door, easily flagging over the paramedics and the ambulance. 

Pale and sweating, Spencer misses a team of three first responders boarding the plane, taking the places of Hotch and Gideon. He only realizes they’re next to him when a hand grabs his wrist, taking his shaky pulse.

Spencer shies away from the touch of new people, but there isn’t much he can do while he’s still gasping out blood onto his bottom lip.

Finally, one of them speaks up. “Spencer Reid, right?”

Spencer nods, looking at the man, but too tired to profile.

“Okay, we’re going to get you to the hospital, and you’re going to be just fine. Right now, I just need you to relax as much as possible. Can you tell me what your symptoms are?”

Without waiting for a response, Gideon quickly supplies all of the things he’s witnessed since they pulled Spencer out of the pool.

After he’s done, another one of the paramedics looks up, announcing, “He’s tachycardic. Did you say he was pulled from a pool?” After the nodding confirmation, she continues, “It’s probably a pulmonary edema.”

Looking between the paramedics, Hotch questions, “How bad is that?”

Keeping his eyes on his patient, the first paramedic answers, “We’re going to get him to the hospital right now. He’s going to have a good chance.”

“I’m coming with you,” Gideon states.

“Sir-”

“I’m his proxy. I’m going with you.”

With a nod, the paramedic agrees, “Stay out of our way.” Then turning to his coworkers he adds, “Move him on one, two, three.”

Spencer can feel his erratic heartbeat speed up and down, and he isn’t sure if it’s from his lungs or his anxiety. He’d be willing to bet that it’s probably a combination of both.

One of the paramedics fits him with an oxygen mask, and Spencer greedily sucks in air, loosening his chest ever so slightly. Every time he coughs specks of red and pink coat the outside of the mask, making him cringe.

In the ambulance, electrodes are placed around his chest in various places, along with a pulse oximeter on his finger. One of the paramedics religiously checks his breathing, and Spencer has never felt more like a science experiment.

When he looks to the side, he sees Gideon watching from the bench seat of the ambulance, face pulled into an anxious frown.

In what feels like a simple blink of an eye, they arrive at the hospital, and suddenly Spencer is getting handed off to a collection of nurses and doctors, all with their own grabby hands, determined to touch Spencer.

Spencer tries to pull away from the touch, but it doesn’t do much help when he’s surrounded on every side. 

“Pulmonary edema” is tossed around a few more times before a hasty chest x-ray to confirm it. At some point in the process he loses Hotch, and Spencer feels his anxiety grow further.

Each breath he pulls in only goes through halfway, and his wheezes are littered with bubbles and gasps. It’s a horrid sound, and Spencer wishes that it wasn’t coming from himself.

At some point, a hand is placed on his shoulder, and the person its connected to asks, “Sir, can you hear me?”

Spencer tries to answer, but he doesn’t think he has enough energy or oxygen to get anything out, so he suffices for an awkward blink and nod.

“I’m going to release the pressure and fluid in your lungs, do you understand?”

Spencer blinks again.

“This is going to hurt,” She admits, “But it’s going to be quick. Do you understand?”

His reply is coughing from attempting to take a deep breath, and that’s all the confirmation the doctor needs before plunging a large needle into Spencer’s chest, perfectly woven between his ribs.

She’s right. It hurts. A lot.

But merely seconds after, Spencer can breathe for the first time in hours. His body celebrates this by gasping out, greedily sucking in oxygen to make up for the time in the jet when he couldn’t. His heart still stutters, and between his quick gasps, he quickly falls into hyperventilation, causing a small flurry of people around his bed.

He’s given an IV, and suddenly his breathing slows down.

Spencer doesn’t remember closing his eyes, and he certainly doesn’t remember falling asleep.

*

When he wakes, Gideon is sitting in a cheap plastic chair, fingers tracing names in his notebook. He doesn’t notice the younger man’s move to consciousness until Spencer calls out his name.

Or at least, when he tries to call out Gideon’s name. Instead a cough comes out.

Gideon’s head quickly whips up, and he scoots his chair closer to the bed.

“How’re you feeling, kid?”

“‘M okay,” Spencer mumbles with a swallowing, attempting to push himself further up the bed. “What happened?”

Frowning, Gideon answers, “Some of the pool water stayed in your lungs, which caused a pulmonary edema.”

Mimicking the other man’s frown, Spencer replies, “That’s not very good. ‘M I okay now?”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be fine. Doctors said they’re gonna keep you here for at least another day to monitor you. But you should be fine.”

Spencer nods, settling back into his bed. His chest still aches from the tightness and tachycardia he experienced earlier, and he’s grateful for the pillows around him. 

Gideon rubs a hand over his face, before reaching for his small notebook once again.

Relishing in the fact that he can once again breathe, Spencer asks, “Is everything okay?” His eyes glance towards the book, and Gideon sighs.

“I was just worried.” Gideon admits. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid. Your mom would tear me to pieces if anything happened to you.” He adds with a tired smile.

Spencer looks up with slightly scared eyes, confirming, “But she doesn’t know, right? And the team doesn’t know? You didn’t call her?”

“Relax, Spencer,” Gideon soothes, “The nurses will kick me out if you start panicking. No one called your mom.”

With a sigh, the younger man muses, “Good. That’s good.”

“You know at some point you’re going to have to tell the team about your family.”

“No I don’t.”

“Spencer.” Gideon states, “You can’t keep things from these people,”

Frowning, Spencer questions, “Because they’re profilers?”

“Because they care about you.” Gideon finishes. “And they’re going to find out about your parents eventually.”

Spencer sighs, knowing that his mentor is yet again correct. “They’re going to look at me differently if they know.”

With a shake of his head, Gideon claims, “No they won’t. But they’ll be hurt if they don’t find it out from you.”

“I just don’t want them to know,” Spencer admits quietly, sounding like the child Gideon first met at CalTech.

“They’re good people,” He points out, setting a heavy hand on Spencer’s shin. “And they’re going to be curious as to why I’m your medical proxy.”

“Can’t you just tell them not to ask?”

Gideon sighs. He sometimes forgets that Spencer’s still just a kid. His genius brain has barely developed all of the way, and he’s never gotten time to grow up. Spencer is still a kid at his core, and it breaks Gideon’s heart. Despite thinking better of it, Gideon concedes, “Fine. Just this time though.”

“Thanks,”

“You’ve got to tell them before they find out for themselves though.”

Pushing his lips to one side, Spencer questions, “Why?”

“Because you don’t keep things from your family.” Gideon says with a shrug.

“‘My family’?”

“You heard me right,” Gideon easily replies. “Your family.”

**Author's Note:**

> The information I gathered about pulmonary edemas can be found [here,](https://www.webmd.com/children/features/secondary-drowning-dry-drowning#1) [here, ](https://www.webmd.com/lung/the-facts-about-pulmonary-edema) and [here!](https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/pulmonary-edema/symptoms-causes/syc-20377009) Like I said earlier, I had so much fun researching this :)
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts about anything! You can always come talk with me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/appalachianapologies) (AppalachianApologies) if you'd like! I'm always so down to meet new people :D
> 
> I love you all very much, and I hope you all are doing okay. If you find yourself in a bad or scary situation, here are some hotlines (Please keep in mind that the written out numbers are US hotlines)
> 
> National Suicide Hotline:  
> 1-800-273-8255  
> National Sexual Assault Hotline:  
> 1-800-656-4673  
> National Domestic Violence Hotline:  
> 1-800-799-7233
> 
> If you don't live in America and need someone to talk to, here's a list of [international hotlines.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines)  
> You are not alone, and I love you all <3
> 
> Much love to all of you, and take care until tomorrow!! <3


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